Category: categories

Ok, Shhhhhh

The girl at the next table is very drunk. When her tablemate heads for the restroom, she unexpectedly turns to me and my friend.

“God damn, he’s cute. You know? He’s cute right? I know! He’s married, and I’m engaged, but man. You know what I mean? Man! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my Mark, and he loves his Anne. I mean, Dan isn’t even my type. He’s all built and jacked up, and Mark is like tall and thin and fuckin’ smooooooth. You know? Fuckin’ smooth. I mean, compared to Mark, Dan is nothing to look at. I mean, he’s hot, or whatever, but not my type. I mean Mark is gorgeous, like a fuckin’ model. And Anne is so sweet, and she’s gorgeous too, like, model-gorgeous. And I love Anne, for sure, she’s incredible, I mean, so incredible. But it’s like, when me and Dan get together, it’s like… Man! I mean, I’d never do anything with him, I wouldn’t even date him, I wouldn’t even look at him normally as the type of guy I’d look at. Maybe for like two seconds. But I love my Mark, and he loves his Anne. Nothing’s gonna happen, but you know sometimes you just gotta get it out. And me and him are like laaaughing and talking and just laying it out, like, I like you, I like you too stuff. Nothing’s gonna happen though. OK, SHHHHHH! Here he comes!”

Let’s Buy More Poetry

The Art of Disappearing
by Naomi Shihab Nye from Words Under the Words: Selected Poems

When they say Don’t I know you? say no.
When they invite you to the party
remember what parties are like
before answering.
Someone telling you in a loud voice
they once wrote a poem.
Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.
Then reply.
If they say we should get together.
say why? It’s not that you don’t love them any more.
You’re trying to remember something
too important to forget.
Trees.
The monastery bell at twilight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished. When someone recognizes you in a grocery store
nod briefly and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven’t seen in ten years
appears at the door,
don’t start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.
Walk around feeling like a leaf. Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time.

(Thanks, Writer’s Almanac.)

Advice

From the January 2007 edition of Esquire:

James Watson, Scientist:

“Do things as soon as you can If a decision needs to be made, make it. It gives you more time to change your mind.”

Penn Jillette:

“I asked [Phyllis Diller], ‘How do you do so many things?’ And she said, ‘I don’t do anything that isn’t easy. I try things, and if they’re not immediately easy for me, I quit instantly.’ That’s some of the best advice I’ve ever gotten.”

Two Instances of Genius

1. I was reading a New Yorker article about an entomologist who used to roll her hair up in the car window when she was driving while sleepy so that her hair would jerk her awake if she fell asleep at the wheel.

2. Alice’s correspondence with age Four and a Half will hurt you with its brilliance. Read it, and do not stop until you get to the bit about Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Stats

I’m three months pregnant, and my 9-year-old nephew and I discuss baby names:

Trevor: What will you name it if it’s a boy?
Me: Maybe Hank.
Trevor: Hank Aaron had more home runs than anyone else.
Me: Really?
Trevor: He was MVP in 1957.
Me: I didn’t know that.
Trevor: He was also black at the time.

Filling in for Siblings

Bryan: I know you’re hungry, little baby, so you’ll want to get your hands out of the way. Stop pushing the bottle away, little guy.
Me: (cooing voice) Who doesn’t know what hands are yet? Whooo doesn’t understand the basic principles of physics? Whooo?
Bryan: Who jerks around like he has some sort of grave neurological disorder? Whoooo?
Both: It’s Henry! It’s Heeeenry!

Stating the Obvious

“You know what I haven’t seen in awhile?” I say to Bryan. “Fight Club. I love that movie. Let’s rent it.” Bryan heads to the video store and returns with the movie. As we’re watching, I realize that momhood has ushered in a new era of overreaction to bloody images.

Me: Whoa! Oooooo.
Bryan: …
Me: Jeez! JEEZ!
Bryan: …
Me: This is violent.
Bryan: It’s not called Cuddle Club.